Yesterday Today Tomorrow
by J nds
Summary: Aspiring novelist Ayuzawa Misaki couldn't find what was missing. Words, sentences and inspiration had never been at her doorsteps. All there was, was piled snow. That is, until she found a wandering poet with eyes an emerald she had unconsciously sought forever. [AU] [Complete]
1. Prologue

**AN:** _I've been wanting to write this, the past 3 days, and truly, it is stuck in my mind.I know I have other stories to update, but my heart is somewhere else, as you can see...  
_

 _I hope you won't mind that distraction, and will come to love it as much as my other stories. I feel like this is much more challenging to me, but so much more fulfilling. The story won't be a long one, perhaps hitting 10k words at most, but I really dread and look forward to what you will think about it._

 **Disclaimer : Maid-Sama belongs to Fujiwara Hiro**

* * *

— **Yesterday Today Tomorrow** —  
 _Prologue **  
**_

* * *

—

Crumpled balls of paper littered the cold mahogany floor, the thin layer of dust a telltale sign of careless abandon. In the bleak and winter weather, the room —in the olden days lively and well tended— was dull and cold; a versed remnant of what is used to be.

But in contempt of all the dull and morose depiction, we had forgotten to mention the living being that resided in the depicted residence.

There sat a young and raven-haired woman, bent upon unsullied paper on an antique oak table. The plastic chair she reigned on was conspicuously clashing with the perennial surrounding. Creaking with high-pitched squeaks at each of her impulsive gestures, its unrefined echoes filled the room with decadence.

She muttered incomprehensibly before going on rampage.

An onslaught of black ink offensively tarnished the elegant paper with urgency, before she tore away and glared at what she had scribed.

Another displeased glare.  
Another paper being crushed.  
It mercilessly joined its fellow predecessor on the cold hard ground.

" _DANG IT!_ Son of a biscuit! Freakin' berries white paper! What the fan _-flipping-tastic-holy-strawberry-milkshake_ problem do you have with me?!" She exclaimed, rhythmically stabbing the paper down with her fountain pen.

Unfortunately, her words weren't stopping right there. Frustrated, her relentless curses were coloring the dim room with streaks of hot temper. Her eyes snapped up, before glaring at the taunting blank word processing document on her laptop screen, sitting on the desk.

"Oh no! Don't you even dare..."

The blinking cursor kept taunting her nonetheless.

"You know what?... Yuck YOU! You, flaming douchebag!" Gritting, she started to desperately type anything. Which was, at the moment and with the current mood going on... Curse words.

"Won't you... stop with your bull spitting... Humdrum screen fudge nugget incompetency..."

A message popped up.

 _'Critical battery (0%). You should change your battery or switch to outlet power immediately to keep from losing your work.'_

She growled in retaliation. "Don't. Even. Think..."

Before she could do anything, the screen went black, successfully enhancing her fuming mood.

"DANG!... _DITCHER_!" She cried with abandon, flopping down on the table beyond recall.

And that was how her days had gone through.

Days that stretched into weeks. Weeks that ran into months. Months into seasons.

Here was winter.

Already.

She had absolutely tried _everything._ From switching to papers and ink to _'feel the words and meaning'_ under her fingertips, to listening to inspirational music for... inspiration. Even going out for a walk in any hours. She had gone every single hours, for God's sake!

The ' _morning dew'_ of a fresh morning, to the first orange ' _hued rays of sunrise kissing_ _the sky'_ , a cruise through the ' _quintessence of the natural and luxuriant'_ green park... The calm and _relaxing nightfall_ covering _the' full of life city in a spectral glow'_...

There were all too cheesy to even put a smile on her scowling face. None of it ever helped her overcome the infamous... Writer's block.

Not just _writer's block_ , no. Her mind had to make the necessary pause, a breathtaking suspense to the heft of the sole idea.

The... _Writer's block._

"Fine!" She suddenly stood up, the fighting spirit back, coursing up in her spine. Her finger was pointed at the innocent black screen.

"Fine, you ditch me, I will ditch you too! Good friggin' night!"

Her eyes narrowed onto the white paper, stabbed with black rips from her earlier affront.

"What? Stop. It's your fault too!" She hurled around, eyeing all the paper balls neglected on the floor.

"It's all your fricking fault! I bet you guys are having a darn BLAST there!"

And she yanked her jacket from the chair, making it tumble and fall as she stormed out.

As soon as she stepped out, her light jacket did little to cover her from the large gulfs of air blowing through the white city. A thick winter blanket was awning on flat surfaces, even coating the smallest and narrowest spaces. She took a step forward, feet sinking deep into the layer of snow.

Her toes immediately froze in her flimsy sneakers. Her cheeks were already turning a faint crimson over her pale complexion. But little did she mind any of that. She had neither hated or liked any seasons of the year. All she found in them were the inconveniences they brought alongside their climate.

And the way they implied that time was endlessly ticking, no matter what.

Her head lifted to the blinding and white sky bereft of any trace of summer sunlight. Only boundless heaps of cloud floating there over their heads. An umbrella of smoky clouds.

She kept walking to the main plaza. The sound of the snow crunching under her feet made her count each of her steps under her breath, each exhale eliciting a tiny puff of white into the cold air.

Reaching the main area, a huge Christmas tree was sitting in the middle of it. Tiny children running around with unfettered concerns, they were skimming on the snow and wildly sliding, before falling face first into it.

Misaki squeezed her eyes to make out the child's expression from her far standpoint.

A smile lifted the toddler's face, bright and ecstatic. As if falling into muddled snow was pure bliss. She wanted to face palm at the discrepancy. How the hell would that feel any good? Her head shook side to side, the little child's behavior defeating her crestfallen mood further down the drain.

She moved away before she could trip all the kids, so that they would probably laugh as she would revel in the juvenile satisfaction of superiority.

She wasn't even a violent person... Was she?

Heading to a deserted square, the long and high fences encircling the area were closed to visitors. And yet, she climbed without much struggle, her moves quick and discreet. She was used to coming here in her younger years. Used to a once lively park that would soon be destroyed for who knows what kind of business building.

Strolling to the center of the promenade in the immaculate snow, she spotted some wild winter flowers and foliage, frost in their eternal allure. They'd soon be pluckered off when the construction site would come. But for now, they were still here; waiting for the sun to arise them from their hibernal slumber.

A faint smile on her face, she continued down to the main tree that once occupied the middle of the park. A little pathway uphill led her there, and she could make out the large and light colored tree she had been familiar with. Sparse branches stripped of any leaves, it was ice-covered with white fluffy snow and glassy rimes.

Just like a glass tree, sparkly and iridescent. It would break whenever the wind would blow a little too hard. It would fall, were someone come to touch it with the slightest and lightest brush. A thin balance of eternal and yet ephemeral wonder was her beloved tree.

Maybe it would be the answer to everything.

Heart beating, she ran down to it, hitting the rectangular square that felt so small, now that she had gotten adult.

Maybe it was what she needed.

She noticed a blur of red, but paid no attention to it. After all, who would be foolish enough to sneak into a rundown park as she did? All she could focus on was the glassy tree of her younger years. When _she_ had run with _her_ little sister and fell, face first into snow, only to get back up and laugh mirthlessly into _her_ mother's worried arms.

Then, in the middle of her recollection, the Sun came to spare a single and gold ray down the sky, raining splendor over the square. The tree glistened, someone shifted, and a gust of wind up-rose their way.

A red scarf flew.  
Fingertips brushing against rough paper.  
A rasp in the silence, and yet unheard of all.

Sparks fired up.  
Ambers and emeralds.

Emerald.  
As green as a tropical forest.

She stopped in her motions, wanting to get another glimpse of those.  
Blonde and golden hair, tall and curiously enigmatic.  
All she wanted was another glimpse of those eyes.

But something pitilessly flew on her face, wrapping her sight in a blur of ivory. Cursing, because she was on the streak that day, she quickly removed the paper. A rough texture melded under her fingertips.

Just like sand in her palms, she couldn't help but stare down at the feel.

 _Paint my heart with your words,  
And draw my soul in your eyes._

The smooth and neat scrawl went on and on, the paper adorned of flawless words...

And something else she needed in her own voice.

Although she knew that she might be intruding on the stranger's mind by reading this piece of paper, she couldn't help it. It felt too close to the truth.

 _A rough sketch  
Remains in the shelf of your heart._

 _In timeless contempt,  
The unfinished draft  
Begins to complete._

She was forced to glance up as a shadow towered over her. Green forest eyes ensnared hers. Ambers melting in a pool of honey grew wider as they quietly gazed at each other.

Something burst into her heart.

And she ran.

She ran without a care, bolting through the frozen alleys. The stranger's paper still warm in her hand, she ran until she could no longer breath. Until she felt the rush of joy flood her lungs.

Getting into her old apartment in record time, her sneakers were discarded with haste in the entryway, still soaked with frost and pilled snow. She didn't care to pull the collapsed chair back up.

She didn't need to sit.

A layer of hole riddled paper flew in the room, letting the unsullied paper underneath reveal itself. Her trembling hand quickly grabbed onto the fountain pen, and words came all too naturally, flowing with effervescence onto the thick sheet.

She finally wrote.

 _Under the lonely tree was standing a man.  
And he shone like the summer sun, on a cold winter day._

—

* * *

 ** _Author's note:_**

 _I hope you stay with me on this ride. Tell me what you think, and I thank you in advance for everything!  
I would really love to hear your criticism or what you think about it =)  
_

 _PS: Writing poetry is hard, harder than anything I ever wrote. Well, I'm a first timer, so meet my novice 'poetry' if we can even call it that way xD...  
But I've read some, and it is beautiful. I hope I successfully convey the beauty of it to you, where every word are carefully chosen and important :) _


	2. Yesterday

**AN:** _The timeline in the prologue and this first chapter is not the same, so don't be too confused ;) !_

 **Disclaimer : Maid-Sama belongs to Fujiwara Hiro**

* * *

 **—** **_Yesterday_** _Today Tomorrow_ **— _  
_**

* * *

—

 _Yesterday,  
Your voice was  
A faraway shout in the wind._

—

Another day in another year.  
Every single day were different in their own ordinary ways.

"HURRY! Hurry up!" She loudly yammered above the tumult that the students of her high school were brewing. Similar to a herd of noisy sheep, the pupils were unconcerned by her brave tentative and kept sluggishly tagging along.

She took a slow breath before roaring. "The door will close in one minute!"

Surprised gasps turned her way, but she paid no attention to them and kept her fierce eyes on her watch.

An ushered whisper rose up. _"God, what an uptight tomboy. Why the hell did they even choose her to be the Council's President?"_ Someone chuckled. From the corner of her eyes, she could see something fly down out of nowhere. She inwardly cringed, hoping that they weren't plotting on throwing her some projectiles _._

 _"Anyway, she's only a rude woman. We are going to overrule her easily."_ Few approving hums followed the statement with good graces. _"Well. She's a mood-killer. Goody-Two-Shoes."_ Came a voice, edging on a sneer.

Their words hurt her deeply, but they didn't need to know that. They would never know that, actually.

She knew how to handle them after several weeks. That was mainly why she had postulated for the Council President's seat; in a hope to be heard, to finally have something other than the growing emptiness in her heart, whenever she was ignored.

"Ten seconds left."

How did it feel like to be _nobody_? She had coped with that for so long, drowning in her imagination as her safe shelter. She thought she wouldn't need anyone to acknowledge her, but somehow, the thin control she exerted toward her loneliness was slipping. And here she was, trying to become _somebody_.

"Fine, fine, we will go!" They quickly passed by her, the unsatisfied teens glaring, offensively shoving their shoulders against her in their wake. She whirled around at the impact, sizing them up as they walked to the school's main entrance.

She could manipulate hate to her advantage. She could walk away from it in the same way she would fight it.

But indifference? _It was the sum of nothing._

 _What was there to fight if no one was there in the first point?_

Yet, her smile was everything but bitter. Unsure. The daily irritated glares, unceasing and rude undertones directed her way were like sharp arrows aimed at her back. Replaying over and over in her mind.

 **One.**  
 _She could take._

 **Two.**  
 _It hurt less than the first. That was a lie she had taught herself to believe._

 **Three.**  
 _She still smiled._

 **Ten? _  
_** _While bleeding._

 **Twenty?**  
 _Her teeth clenched with control._

 **Fifty.**  
 _Eyes closed, she was trying to block it all out._

 **A hundred?**  
 _She wouldn't give up._

 **A thousand...**  
 _Even so, the defense she built up... had collapsed long ago._

One could only take so much hate and not shatter.

"Am I really making the right choice?" she breathed, her vision blurring at the weak words coming out of her lips. She stared down at the ground, hoping that no one would notice her teary eyes. She blinked them away.

 _'But you used to never speak out your thoughts. All you did was write them down on a piece of paper and burn it away. Always silently writing. Don't you want that to change?'_

Of course, she wanted a turnover. But how much more would she have to give for it to happen?

Her blurry sight recovered as she fixated an ivory and ruined paper left out in the middle of the ground. It wasn't projectiles, after all. Picking it up to trash it, the sheet was folded in a simple paper plane. She opened the frail pleats.

 _Ink and neat words._

Heart gripping in the strangest way, she kept the thick paper in her hand and gazed up around. The blue sky innocently stretched above her with no one in plain sight. Nothing seemed unusual, and yet, she couldn't help that foreign feeling filling her heart.

 _A mix of elation and anguish._

She began to read.

 _Your untainted intentions;  
Were left undone  
And misunderstood._

And no matter how much she blinked...

 _Blame only the blind diligence,  
For missing  
The subtle fragility  
Of your smile._

 _Not your  
Lonely,  
And forsaken  
Tears._

Salty drops blurred the obsidian lines.  
The ink slowly spread along, branding that crack in her heart over the ravaged paper.

—

And just like this, days flew as slowly as a blink of an eye. And while she tried to fix the perpetual mess in both her heart and surroundings, she knew deep inside that it was only playing pretend.

Every day, paper planes flew her way, the weight of their words heavier than the thick material itself. They tore through her heart with acute precision, always revealing the weakness she struggled to conceal within her battered heart. Her mind was constantly on edge, invaded by the stifling abuse and that one person —who wrote those destructive poems. Poems that revealed how powerless she was, under the aegis of shapely prose.

 _And that heart cut open,  
Often bleeds bitter regrets._

 _Pitilessly,  
Petals skim the ground.  
Their desperate fate  
Sealed._

All she wished was to crawl back into the safeguard that was her imagination.

As the days went on, something other than control was snapping in her soul. It was worse than anything, knowing that she had brought it upon herself. All those nasty stares and dirty scowls couldn't be blamed on anyone other than her.

Every flaws the poet saw, was only her poor disguise's faults.

She took it on her.

 _"Befriend her and you are dead."_

Rumors wouldn't die down behind her back. Relentless, they were stronger than her voice, always stirring up like fire whenever she tried to put it down.

 _Searing her hope,  
Whispering into her senses  
Uncomely designations._

 _Transient life._

Her wasted efforts only made it burn brighter. Fiercer.

 _"Stay with her and you will get her germs. The vulgar kind of germs, you know. You wouldn't want it on you, that I can tell you."_

Seated at the Council's empty room —it was always empty for the past two months— she stared at the several stack of paper she had to review.

Alone.

 _"Seriously, hold your breath when you are near her. It's really dangerous. I saw a girl... she shared the same air... and one day later, she was totally disfigured!..."_

Nasty giggles resounded in her head. Some girls ran past the room, their hands pinching their noses and their lips tightly shut.

 _"That foul stench! She stinks!"_

Alone _and_ hated.

 _"Dirty wench."_

Nothing was left in her mind but to escape the reality of her situation. Despite her attempts, she was like a warm drop in the cold ocean sea. Her strength would never be enough to warm the whole mass. To change it.

 _"Ugly."_

She dreamt of a place far away from those depraved stares.

That place where the sun never set.  
 _Imagination._

Her gaze settled upon the items she had confiscated earlier, sitting on the wooden desk.

A pack of smoke and a lighter.

What would it feel like?  
Would it really make her worries fly away?

 _"Reckless."_

Was it?  
What was there to lose, anyway?...

No one would know...

Swiftly, she shoved the small pack into her skirt's pocket, before standing up. Her feet led her to the rooftop, the only secluded place she could go.

 _Where the wind would blow  
Strong enough,  
Unceasing whispers  
Fading to no more._

But they kept following her in her frail escape.

 _Akin to insidious hands._

 _Capturing-  
Every  
Of her faint breath,_

 _And waning  
Hope._

Reverberating in the high school's corridor. In every path she took. Bathrooms. Stalls.

Every step.

 _Giggles._

In her head. She skidded in her haste, tripping forward before she crawled back up, scampering towards the flight of stairs. Even walls started closing on her, constricting her lungs.

 _"Naive."_

Her panicked pace quickened, her vision blearing away. Fears wrapped her senses in terror, making her hyperaware of every sounds.

 _"Crude."  
"Fool."  
"Stupid."_

Fingertips yanking the unsteady handrail, she leapt, taking the steps two by two until her arms lunged forward to reach the doorknob.

One wide hurl, and a blast of air surged on her, wildly whipping her skin and tears away. The hard and frantic exhale she gave out made her realize how she had been holding her breath.

The sun drowned in the horizon in gold and crimson, its rays of light glimmering in the dusk. Entranced, she walked to the edge of the building and tipped back at the fringe, her body terribly unsteady.

Clenching her teeth in a futile attempt to control her body, she flopped down onto the ground, instead of risking a final freefall. Her legs were dangling in the air with caution when she finally pulled out the pack of smoke.

She gazed forward, trying to delay the inescapable.

 _The sun is  
Fleeting away._

 _Chase the dawn  
With the limited width of  
Your pale fingers._

Her hands came to brush the pack open, plucking a cigarette and putting it between her lips. The raw smell of cheap tobacco invaded her nostrils, making her wince in disgust.

Lighter in hand, she strained to put it at the tail of the drag. No matter how she tried, she wasn't able to ignite her smoke. Maybe could she blame the wind, but she knew the real reason.

Trembling.

She was _trembling_.

Another desperate attempt, and the light wavered before dimming out.

"I wouldn't do that, if I were you."

She jumped in extreme fright. The rush of alarm coursing her body made the lighter drop from her fingers. She instinctively tried to catch it back as it fell forward. Plunging down, she lost balance and teetered over the edge of the building. Right in time, a firm hand grabbed her wrist and yanked her back. Hopelessly, her eyes followed the lighter's fall in the emptiness.

Just like her heart did.

She could've died.

Plainly.

No one would've cared.

"Uh..." she shakily whimpered, the cigarette resting somewhere between in the pleats of her skirt. Turning around, she gazed up at the face of her savior.

Sandy strands. Emerald orbs. Warm curve of lips.

 _A rainbow of sight  
Where everything cease to be  
Vain._

"Who... Who are you?..."

"Something along the line of your secret _admirer_ ," he slowly grinned, leaning back and sitting beside her.

She stared at him, dumbstruck. Then she shifted back, ready to stand up. Warily.

"Is this some kind of new prank?..."

"If it were, you'd already be down there," he nodded at the ground, hundred feet down. "With your neck possibly broken. So, I can assure you, this is not a prank."

She shifted nevertheless, leaving a large gap between them. "You shouldn't stay near me," she warned with good grace.

He took back the distance in a quick shuffle.

"Why not?"

"Don't you know what they say about me?"

"Hm?" He gazed at her with a small smile.

She couldn't give one back though, and fixated her hands laying on her skirt.

"I'm... Um... I... reek of the pest, they say. You will be... infected if you stay near me."

She made a point to move away and glanced up to give him an apologetic smile, but she didn't have the time. Because he leaned her way, his nose brushing her hair as he took a deep inhale.

"Wh... W-what are you..."

Flustered, she slanted back, her expression an abashed mix of pink.

"I think you smell lovely."

 _Along the tiny pieces left  
In the wake of your  
fleeting shadow..._

 _Unexpected eyes  
Might finally  
Notice._

—

* * *

 ** _Author's note:_**

 _Two chapters to go ;p !  
Hope you like it! =)_

 _I worked very hard for those flowy lines, haha ;p  
Tell me which one is your favorite! :D_


	3. Today

**Disclaimer : Maid-Sama belongs to Fujiwara Hiro**

* * *

 **—** _Yesterday_ _**Today** Tomorrow_ **— _  
_**

* * *

—

 _Today,  
Melting and unraveling  
is your smile._

—

And now, she saw him everywhere she went.

In the school's corridors, in class, in the refectory, the hall... Every times their gazes met, he'd smile subtly, albeit cunningly. And she'd run towards the opposite direction, ruffled and frustrated by the sole sight of him. How come she hadn't noticed him before?

The thought of him had completely disturbed her routine, making her unaware of all the whispers going through. All because of his astute green gaze and perceptive mindset.

And she remembered what he had told her on the rooftop.

"If you need someone, I will be waiting here," he nodded to where he sat. "I will wait for you."

 _Little swan,  
The tip of your soul  
Makes everlasting ripples  
On the still surface of  
My watery heart._

"Why do you care?" She had asked.

"Don't you know? They say that 'no one can be loved by everyone'. It applies for both side. No one can be hated by everyone." He stood up, and she hoped he'd walk away but to no avail did he. His next words were like reproaches to her.

"Look outside of the box." He told her with finality. She stared up at him, taking in his expression: a hint of torment and bitterness. Then, his voice dropped to a murmur; a whisper before he left.

"Break free by yourself, because as much as I want to, I can't do this for you."

But she had fought every single day. Why couldn't anyone see that? The internal struggle she underwent each passing seconds might have hurt her, but she still stood on her ground, didn't she?

That's how she found herself going on the rooftop the next day, when the sun began to set off in the horizon. She climbed the flight of stairs in a newfound rush, looking forward to a new prospect. She wanted to prove him wrong.

And when she opened the door, she was greeted by flooring disappointment.

He wasn't there.

—

And the day after held no more success. For the next week, she went up to the rooftop, with searing hope and foresight. But her wishes were left unfulfilled, save for emptiness. Although his absence was a weight on her heart, she didn't let the hours there go to waste. Her homework booklet became pages worth of drafts and scribbled words. The thin hours were her reprieve, her little world where she let go and finally allowed herself to set forth.

And write.

 _Escape_.

 _Lengthening shadows  
In a daze  
Her voice fades..._

Sitting on the edge of the rooftop, she stretched her arm forwards, the sun so far it looked like a sight she could mold in her hands.

"She chases the dawn, hoping to fill the space between her fingertips with wonders," Misaki murmured, her own hand closing on the sunlight last rays. "And while today, the sky might be falling down, she knew that tomorrow would come. That the birth of cherished days wouldn't be so far off... Just like—..."

"The warm summer of your eyes," came a smooth voice behind her. "—Never fails to color..."

She turned around, glancing up and meeting blithe emeralds.

"—The winter within my heart." He finished his poem with a tender smile directed at her. Something smooth and welcoming, a mix of honey and sun, of safety and laughter.

Something she longed for. How long had it been since someone smiled to her? A true smile, void of mockery but loaded with kindness?

"Usui Takumi," Misaki murmured.

"Ayuzawa Misaki," he replied back with humor. His eyes crinkled with mirth and she couldn't help but feel a little tipped off. Brushing it off with fake resentment, she stood up and paced to him.

"You said you'd be here, do you know how long I've been waiting for you?" She accused him, her voice authoritative.

"One week."

She gasped. "How...?"

"I was watching you, and I knew that what you needed... wasn't me," he said. "You needed to find yourself."

A breeze rose up, enhancing their silence with a whisk of fresh air.

 _Gentle sounds.  
They run off,  
Filling the blank page. _

"Find myself?" She bitterly laughed. "What is there to find? I never was lost."

He sat down next to the spot she had just vacated. Patting the ground beside him, he beckoned her closer. She sat.

"You were. You were lost in the thoughts of them. Not your own." He glanced at her, his blonde hair a rumpled mess in the wind.

What he had said seemed so vague and maybe obscure. But she could touch the faint outlines of its meaning. It hit her in the face like nothing ever did.

"You knew I stopped writing?" She asked, dumbfounded. How could he know she even wrote in the first place?

"Wait, who are you?"

A grin took his charismatic features. "Told you already."

When she remained skeptical, a frown etched on her face, he specified with an arched brow. "Your secret admirer, remember?"

It cracked a smile out of her, but still, she retorted, "I thought you were all mature and smart, but in fact, you're just... plain stupid." She chuckled, stunned by the foreign sound escaping her throat.

"That's a start," he grinned. "But as stupid as I might be, I do have a great memory."

She didn't answer, but prompted him ahead with her eyes, narrowing with curiosity.

"Middle school. There was that little girl with pigtails and pink ties. She always had a notebook with her, and knew how to write decent prose at an early age..." Before she could stop him, he continued.

"At the school's mother day festivity, she read a composition she made in front of everyone. 'You may have held my hand for a short while, but my heart is yours to hold forever'. It was perfect. For her young years, I couldn't believe she had written this. She was perfect..." He paused. "You are perfect, Ayuzawa."

"What are you..." Misaki tried to struggle for a remnant of control, but her voice cracked anyway. "You're stupid if you really do find that perfect... Find me, perfect... I'm flawed..."

 _Closer,  
Step into  
This fairytale of mine._

Warm fingers brushed hers, and he held her hand in his palms. She wanted to retrieve them, but didn't have the heart to.

"Flawed, but perfect to me," he finished for her. "Time ages us away and —You remain the same —To my loving eyes."

"Your words are mesmerizing, Usui," she voiced, her eyes downcast and her hair hiding her expression from him.

"I think what you meant to say was; 'You are mesmerizing, Usui. Kiss me now'."

It took several seconds for her brain to register what he had just said. Then, blood flushed up her cheeks and she suddenly stood up. He braced himself, a bright smile stretching his lips.

"...Wh-What... You!... You're... Unbelievable!" Gasping, she was lost for words. "And... You're a... Stupid PERVERT!" She indignantly shouted, stomping back into the school, and leaving that smug smile playing on his lips.

—

And the upcoming months, they'd spend all their time together, in secrecy at the rooftop. Until secrecy gradually became casual encounters in the school corridors. Brief glances morphing into hellos and drifting conversations.

 _Teases._  
"You're so cute, Misa-chan."

 _Laughters._  
"Pervert!"

 _Smiles._  
"I still forgive you, though."

 _Hands brushing, toes curling._  
"I like you."

 _A kiss?_  
"Tastes so sweet."

 _How long could it last until..._

"You're drenched, Usui," she gasped, finding him in the school's backyard. His clothes were soaked, his blonde hair plastered to his forehead.

He shrugged it off, emeralds sparkling. "The water faucet broke when I was washing my face, so yeah, I kind of got wet."

"Is that so? But how comes—..."

He quirked his eyebrows, cutting her. "I'm going to change, so unless you want to help me..."

Obviously, he didn't have to go on. "Pervert! ...Ugh!" She hastily stepped away, her head shaking.

—

 _How long could it last until..._

"Your lips. Isn't it bruised?..." she murmured, her wide eyes taking him in.

He slowly bent down and kissed her. An attempt to washing her worries away. but she knew what was happening. She had been there too often.

"You were too rough with me, kissed me too fervently, maybe," he shuffled closer, but she backed away. It hurt her, knowing she couldn't protect him. How could she? She didn't even have the strength to shield herself.

"You're not telling me the truth, Usui..." Her voice gave out all her hurt, and she regretted it as soon as she spoke. Because the hurt; it reflected in his eyes.

"You don't believe me?"

What could she answer to that?

—

 _How long could it last until..._

The whispers. They were destroying him.

"Aren't they disgusting together?" They soundly murmured, making him squeeze her hand in his own.

 _It doesn't matter_ , Takumi silently glanced at her. His smile was forced. Hard. Tight.

Muted voices followed. "They don't fit at all. I don't understand what he sees in her." Misaki let go of his hand in shame.

"We should wake him up, make him realize... Unless she have already tempted him? Brain washed him?" Shocked gasps resounded.

"Let's knock it out of his mind," some guys laughed.

 _Curtains._

 _Simplistic train of thoughts  
Soundless applause rise.  
Break free only  
to fall down._

—

It was her breaking point, seeing him with a broken arm and his jaw bloodied and bruised. They were at the school's infirmary, the scent of antiseptic permeating around him. Scratches ran the length of his throat, and he was there, speechless in front of her; Unable to find another excuse to cover such blatant circumstances.

Did he want to blame her?

He could. She wouldn't mind him. Maybe her heart would break a little, but it was nothing she couldn't live without...

 _Right?_

"Don't worry, Misaki. I just... wasn't careful enough. Tripped in the stairs..."

And just like that, she walked away. Without a single words, right before tears could surge. Weakness would be apparent on her face, were she to stay a minute longer. Her heart was weighing her down, but she still took ample strides, without looking back.

And she had decided.

She would miss their conversation on the school rooftop.

The green of his eyes.  
The warmth of his smile.

She'd miss it all, but the loss was nothing compared to his wellbeing.

 _As long as  
We live in their memories,  
Alive we will stay  
Within their hearts._

Were she to ever go back there again, she knew he'd be there, waiting for her. All that mattered now was his safety. She had put him in danger, the gossips now watching their every moves.

Each of his steps.

—

And so, she deliberately ignored him and went on with her life. And akin to a loyal puppy, he tried to follow her, tempting her to seek comfort in his words. One month later, and he'd seemingly grown tired of her mock indifference. Of her silence.

Everything was back to normal.

She wouldn't be selfish anymore.

As usual, she reached the council room after a long day and unlocked the door. Every evening, when the school would empty and the last rays would paints the school in decaying red tones, she would stand here in the shadows and watch the students leave.

 _Watch him leave._

From the height of her empty council classroom, she eyed the blonde figure on the school's ground at the end of the day, feet and feet below. He leisurely strode away, his pace unhurried and casual.

It had been so long since she ever spared herself a glance in his way. Afraid it would raise suspicion and harm, she locked her eyes away when she walked in crowded corridors. A sly smile curled her lips.

For his sake, she would befriend loneliness.

In silence, she relished the stolen moment, the only glimpse she'd get of him. Not more than a few seconds —and she was already lucky to catch him leaving today, since he didn't attend to school every day.

"Usui Takumi."

His name effortlessly rolled off her lips. In the quietest murmur a whisper could get, she held her breath, waiting for him to disappear out of sight.

 _Even when your voice  
fades to breaths,  
The echoes of you  
Remain in my soul._

Unexpectedly, the tall figure stopped at three mere inches from the thin white line that delimited the school's gate. And gazed up directly in her direction.

As if he had heard her calling his name.

Her smile fell from her face, an ashamed and contrite expression seizing her features instead. He kept his eyes on her, boring holes into her heart. His mouth moved in a silent promise. She couldn't stand it, and took a step back, but he had torn his gaze first.

To run.  
Toward the building.

 _I will catch you._

That was what his lips had said.

Her heart began to kick in her chest, an onset of fear and anticipation unfurling in her body. He was set on finding her.

She needed to hide. Quickly.

And so, she did. In a broomcloset, feet away the council room. Somewhere he'd never think to look inside. Somewhere unexpected, through it happened times to times in movies. What sane person would try searching in those closet?

Five long minutes later and she caught him running past her hiding spot, into the council room feet away. She had locked the door though. His fists hammered on the thin wooden door.

"Misaki! Open the door," he shouted, his voice echoing in the corridor. Her heart was painfully beating, her throat constricting around a lump that formed from fear.

"Misaki... Please... Open..." He kept going, his voice desperate. He was desperate. Right in front of her, through he wouldn't know.

 _Eyes out of focus  
Our sight blurs into  
A gray sky.  
Left without you...  
It all is pointless._

"Please... Let me in..." He murmured, sliding to his knees. She couldn't see them, but maybe he was crying. Just as she was. Hot and sizzling tears running down her cheeks, carving a scorching red path on her skin.

She wanted to scream, to tell him she was just there. That she would hold him in her arms.

 _Hold on tight_  
 _Never let go._

But she couldn't.  
All she could do was cry.  
And hear him pour his heart, all the same.

"I love you..." he murmured, sitting back against the closed door.

"I love you too," she quietly whispered, her eyes closing with pain.

It hurt.

 _Shatteringly so.  
_

Half an hour later, when he was still lingering in front of the doorway, the school attendant came to lock all the classrooms and found him there.

"Boy, what are you doing, sitting here?" The old man asked.

Shuffles could be heard. He was getting up. "Sorry... I... Forgot something in this classroom." He smoothly lied, his voice back to usual. It was as if the last thirty minutes never happened.

"Really? Poor son, you must've waited for a while." Keys chain dangling, he unlocked the room. "I'll lock the other room and come back here when I'm done. Good luck finding what you've lost, son."

He quickly thanked the man.

' _Good luck finding what he'd lost_ '. Usui sorely chuckled at the thought, bitterness coating his intonation. He had no luck, because when he stepped into the room, she wasn't there. She never was there.

He cursed and walked away, unbeknown to him that all this time, he had been so close to her.

Tomorrow...

 _Tomorrow, they'd have to live through that again._

—

* * *

 ** _Author's note:_**

 _Updating this, and it's close to the end.  
_ _I hope it's not too heavy to read  
_

 _Your reviews are very very encouraging and lovely, I love you guys :) !_

 _ **PS:** It's funny how no one like the same lines of poetry! Everyone has different taste, it's amazingly interesting * *_


	4. Tomorrow

**Disclaimer : Maid-Sama belongs to Fujiwara Hiro**

* * *

 **—** _Yesterday_ _Today **Tomorrow**_ **— _  
_**

* * *

—

 _Tomorrow,  
Memories won't fade  
Till the edge of forever._

—

There had always been something about her that appealed to him. When he first thought it was because of her fierce and spiteful spirit, he was taken aback. Sure, she might have been singular; different, even.

And rejected by the norms.

Why would he be attracted to such a person?

The question demanded an answer he couldn't give yet.

So he watched her.

Studied her.

Her eyes. Her face. The way she moved. He tried to get a glimpse of her soul.

What he saw instead was his own soul reflected back to him. She inspired him in ways he couldn't define. Thus, he wrote. And in his head always were those amber eyes of her, although she had never looked his way once.

It was basically enough, watching her from afar.

Until it began to be harder to satiate his desires by simply watching.

 _Love,  
A tangle of passions  
For no apparent reasons._

He knew he was falling in love... But maybe was he already in too deep.

—

The end of the semester was approaching along with the final exams. It made things hectic for everyone. But the pain in each of his heartbeat wasn't for the same reasons everyone else were blaming it onto.

It wasn't the exams, per se.

It was the mixed feelings she was sending him throughout the past months.

The furtive glance she cast his way was prickling his skin, making him more aware than ever that life never came around as simple. No, it was complicated, full of insecurities and jolted with confusion.

But maybe he was enjoying this a little too much.

When he learnt that her rejection was only half-hearted; that she still cared about him, watched over him... It brought uncluttered joy into his pale life.

Walking ahead, he mixed in the usual wanna-be flashy boys he hung out with. All the students were asked to attend to the yearly conference at the school hall, where the professors would be doing their usual ambitious speech.

And maybe try to make them better people.

Takumi only yawned, running his fingers through the mess that was his blonde hair. Sitting in the middle row, he made himself comfortable and waited.

He felt _her_ glare from miles away. Quickly twisting his head her way, he spotted her staring at him with that slight frown upon her face. She hastily looked away with disdain.

 _Why was she being so cute, now?_

Maybe it was because of all the love poems he put into her locker, this morning. He grinned to himself, a deep chuckle escaping his lips.

Maybe today would be the day she finally gave in to his advances.

 _One step backward.  
Escape my sight;_

 _My mind only is  
Filled with thoughts of you._

When the ceremonial finally came to an end, he quickly stood up, trying to get out of the hall first and corner her outside. Little did he know that being the council president gave her so many convenience. She took the backstage door with haste, her skirt fleeting with her quick steps.

Once again, she was slipping through his fingers.

 _Sand and tiny flecks.  
Spill, slip and slide  
Through each crevices of my hand._

Exhaling a long breath, he went with the flow, and strode out by the common door just like everyone else did.

—

Usui Takumi always wore a smile on his face.

Whether he was thrilled, bored, wistful or furious... He always had that damn smile on his face.

 _Smile.  
A curve of lips,  
Pretended sign of  
Happiness._

So, try to guess what was his expression when he saw Ayuzawa Misaki in the boy's restrooms, covered in bruises, plastered and cowered against the wall as a group of boys bullied her?

He smiled.

But it wasn't pretty to see.

Too bad, they didn't notice that.

"Hey guys," he stepped up to them. His voice was smooth and friendly, as if wondering what was going on. Some boys were still spitting on her, splashing wet balls of tissues on her. Acting as if he didn't care, Takumi patted them on the back like good friends would, stepping closer to the girl that held his heart in her tiny palms. As friendly as he came across, the boys greeted him with unabashed shame.

The blonde grinned.

However, his storming emeralds hidden by the darkness in the room spoke of another language. "What's up?" He asked nonchalantly.

Perhaps he could join into the fun.

He'd wreck them bad.

The three guys didn't even look at him, and kept throwing the dirty paper her way, making her gasp and softly cry out at each impact. "The bitch stepped on my shoe, earlier. Asked her to lick it clean but she wouldn't. So I thought I'd train her a bit. Make her understand."

"She spit on his face, actually," a flimsy boy snickered, making the other boys laugh with sheer mockery. "Brazen witch, isn't she? Put up a fight, but now she's shaking like a wet pussy!"

The older of them came in and threw in a kick into her frail body, making her jolt with distress.

"Oh?" Takumi simply voiced, eyeing her down. She shuffled as a glimpse of watery ambers flashed up at him, before they turned away, avoiding his appraisal.

She was ashamed.

 _Why out of all time did he catch her in this state?_

He'd never look at her the same way again.

 _Disgusting._

 _Rotten seeds in the soil,  
May, June and July..._

 _Won't you grow,  
Into a delicate rose?_

"I hope you guys are done soon, though. Saw a teacher coming this way."

Ushered whispers came around. "Shit? For real, mate?"

"Let's camp out of here!" Another one suggested with panic.

"Yeah, she was the calculus teacher, short bob hair..."

The boss' underling tugged onto the bad boy's shirt. "Shit! That's Saki-sensei, isn't it?! She's gonna murder us!"

"We need to move this bitch before she comes then," the oldest one grumbled, bending down to grab Misaki's ankle. The abused girl desperately raked her nails all over the tiles as he began to drag her into a toilet cubicle. Takumi quickly came to his level, stopping him.

"I'll clean up, you guys go beforehand. The teachers aren't really fond of you," The blonde grinned with mock devilish intent.

The bulky man's eyes narrowed with suspicion.

"That witch... Isn't she your ex or something? You're not gonna give it to her easy, are you?"

"No," Takumi voiced with feigned confidence.

It only made the man's snicker widen. "Prove it."

His own breath was choking him at the sole thought of hurting her. "How?"

"Don't know. Be creative," he snickered. The other boys —that still remained in the cramped room— started to grasp the situation, and guffawed with glee at the blonde head.

"Yeah, show the bitch who's the boss."

"Didn't the witch dump you or something?"

"Bet you're pretty sick of her, aren't you?"

"Spit in her face, bro."

Pushed ahead by the vile support, he was brought right in front of her small frame. The boys were full or expectations behind him, but he could barely speak. Clearing his throat, he stooped low to her level and fisted her hair, pulling her face up to his eyes.

Glassy ambers stared back at him, her features contorted with agony, straining against his harsh hold.

His heart painfully squeezed at the sight.

"I think I want to do worst," Takumi slowly worded. His voice was coated with venom, but his expression was pure tenderness.

 _Only for her to see._

"I hate her so much." Emeralds searching her ambers, her expression fell when his words caught up to her brain. She began to shake violently.

 _It hurts.  
It hurts.  
It hurts._

' _Don't... Don't listen to my words. Just look into my eyes... Please..._ ' He hoped she'd understand.

 _Trust, and close  
Your eyes.  
For a second._

 _Until you're safe  
Within my arms._

He glanced up at the bulky man, seeing faint skepticism waver in his eyes. So he kept going, knowing that those would be the words he'd forever regret.

"I'll rape that _bitch_ ," he continued, his face straining on the vulgar word and idea. "She's such a filthy _whore_ , tempting me with her looks. Never gave it to me, so I'm going to take it _now_... Just get out of here!" He shouted with rage.

Rage that was directed to the bullies, but they'd never know, thinking that it all were against that girl they bullied.

"Wow," the boys whispered, dumbfounded. "Never thought you'd have it in you, mate," they snickered, slowly stepping backward.

For good measure, Takumi brought her face up to their view, and began to rip her shirt off. A sore cry tore out of her as the buttons flew.

The teenagers behind him began to scurry off. "Don't tell me he's serious," they murmured to each other before scramming away.

His hold on her hair eased down as soon as their footsteps were relatively far enough. She wouldn't stop trembling, though. And not once did she look into his eyes again, after his first acrid words.

"Are you okay?" He finally asked as he led her inside of a stall. She didn't reply, her body limp in his arms. He lightly shook her after making her sit down on the toilet seat. "Are you okay? Misaki?" He asked, crouching down. He missed her so much it was almost hard to breath.

When his hand came up to cup her cheek, she cowered back in terror.

Somehow, his heart broke a little.

"Look at me, Misaki." She kept her eyes downcast, and panic started to surge inside of him, drowning him in his dismay. Finally, it dawned on him.

"Please, I'm not going to hurt you. Look at me," he begged with a semblance of smile.

He always smiled. But who knew what he kept inside?

In all honestly, all he wanted was to cry.

She refused, once again.

His heart fucking broke.

"I'M NOT GOING TO HURT YOU FOR GOD'S SAKE!" He rose up, slamming his fist against the flimsy door.

His voice. His heart. Her trust.

They all broke.

She feared him.

She was scared of him.

"You can't do that to me," he turned back to her, taking her in his arms. "I won't ever let someone hurt you anymore, you got that?" He rasped in her hair.

She struggled to find her voice. When she spoke, it wasn't broken. No.

It was...

 _Destroyed.  
Pieces smashed apart  
A desolated mess._

"But then... why am I always... hurting?..."

It was so soft. Almost inaudible, had he not been seeking any tiny bits of her reactions. He held onto her tighter.

"Today it will stop." He pressed her against him. "Tomorrow, you will be free. You won't ever hurt anymore. I'm taking you with me to America."

Her small will made her ease back from him. She had mistrust in her eyes.

"Please, Misaki," he pleaded. "You can't stay here, okay?" He gently cooed, that damn smile still on his face; his face full of tears.

That couldn't be a smile.

"I promise. You won't hurt. I will protect you. I don't care about myself, all that matters is you. Do you get that?" He carefully explained. "The only way they can hurt me is by making you hurt. So I will protect you; with my life. Everything."

And that was specifically the problem, she thought to herself.

 _Because I care about you._

"Okay," she slowly whispered. "I'll come... I'll go to America with you," she said. He instantly dropped on his knees, relied flooding back into his system.

 _A piece of you,  
Remains in my heart._

 _Until then...  
Farewell._

And the next day...

She never came.

—

* * *

 ** _Author's note:_**

 _Happy New Year, lovelies. Shall this year be void of despair, because right now, my heart is aching. I think I might be masochistic._

 _Argh._

 _One chapter left._

 _I love you's._  
 _Your reviews make my days less bitter. Really do. Thank you for your support._


	5. Epilogue

**Disclaimer : Maid-Sama belongs to Fujiwara Hiro**

* * *

 **— Yesterday** **Today Tomorrow** **—  
** _Epilogue_ ** _  
_**

* * *

—

"And then, what happened?"

Fingertips skimming a thick printed draft, the blonde man —leaning against a wooden table in the simple apartment— turned to the last page of the block. He scanned the content with an expression words couldn't come close to describe.

As for her, she was sitting on the floor, legs crossed and her back pressed against the bed.

"And then, they never met again," Misaki breezily answered, her eyes still set on the notepad she held. She scribbled a word or two, before crossing it out with irritation.

"Why is that?"

A silence.

Takumi shifted from his height, glancing at the beautiful woman he had done a literature co-writing with. He couldn't help but smile at her current state. Her outfit was a mixture of lazy-sunday and disheveled office worksuit.

Ambers lifting up from her notes, she held his emeralds hostage. Demandingly.

"Even though they won't meet again, the encounter has changed them. Isn't that enough?"

"What about love?" He drawled back. "Expectations and healing? Aren't they broken, somehow?"

The raven-haired author looked up to the high window, gazing into the pale blue sky stretching out and the snow coming down, drifting. It reminded her of that day. It had been years since she had snatched that paper from him. One encounter, she bemused. She had ran like a thieving child over a petty crime. Granted, he wasn't much better, having followed her a heartbeat after.

"Love breaks. Expectation makes us dream or regret what never remotely happened." Softly, she gazed back at him. "Doesn't time heal? Doesn't life offer new opportunities as we go?"

"Time can be cruel. What if he had waited for her to turn up all these years?" He inquired. "Isn't there supposed to be a happy ending or something?"

"They weren't meant to be. But they learnt to move on, eventually. They built a life on their own, found a home to stay, a safe haven to their heart... —Maybe it wasn't each others; but it was enough to let them smile at the end of the day."

Another silence. Thoughts warmed the room all over again.

When all was said and done, she shared a piece of herself. "I don't believe in fate, Takumi. I don't think that it actually... exists."

The tall golden haired man sat down beside her.

"So mean, Misa-chan..." He murmured against her ear, one arm curling around her shoulders. "Why doesn't it? I'm sure it does. See; aren't we fated?" He cocked one eyebrow before brushing the tip of his nose against her cheek.

She squirmed out of his hold, but to no avail did she succeed to. And maybe she didn't want to, after all. With feigned reluctance, she just snuggled closer instead. A faint smile was curling her lips despite her queasy show.

He laughed, and he could've bet she chuckled a bit, their voices fussing with happiness. A moment after, silence prevailed back in the vicinity of the room. They reveled in one another's warmth a little longer before she spoke, her voice thoughtful.

"Why do you rely on fate so much?"

"Because," he voiced, aiming to make a point, "we didn't get our happy ending in our book. So I thought we should at least get one for real. Isn't fate an important factor to that?"

Staring at him with disbelief written all over her face, he only gave her his slow and bright grin back. She melted a little, lightly pinching his nose for good measure.

"Fate is an outsider. We will make it with our own hands, won't we?" She slowly exhaled, before suddenly giving him a dirty look. "And who asked you to change all the protagonists' names to ours, stupid?"

Although her tone was accusing; a hint so soft —almost loving— could be heard in each of her words. It definitely was loving, he thought, as he simply gazed at her.

Life would always be a challenge for that woman. Yet, her beliefs would still remain so warm hearted. His goofy grin widened when her ambers flashed with tempered challenge. It was no different from the fierce gaze she had given him, the day he had tumbled at her doorstep. He had been intent on retrieving that newly written poem she had stolen from him, back then.

And... She had shut the door right in his face.

 _"I'm damn busy!"  
_

One hour later —out of humanity, probably— she had opened that door, finding him freezing with a pile of snowflakes on top of his head.

 _"You're obstinate, aren't you?"_ On her lips had been a faint smile.

He shook his head at the memory.

 _Good old time._  
 _A piece of us,  
Remains in our hearts._

"You're right. Let's write another book, Misaki." He paused.

Later, she'd realize it was all for speech enhancement purpose because he added:

"With an happy ending, this time."

—

As of now, the fingers skimming the hard and thick cover of the book were older, wrinkles etched in creases, and bones that used to be covered with a youthful skin now showing. But that hardly mattered.

He wordlessly traced the golden letters embedded in the Victorian styled cover. It looked used, read over and over again, the thin layers of paper barely bound together. It was a wonder how the book was still and all in fair condition after these passing years.

He took the time to appreciate the memories that held onto it, that clung like dust would to any surface.

The color of it was green. A dark shade.

 _"Just like the forest of your eyes, when you seem lost in your thoughts, Takumi,"_ she had once said to him. He had only smiled, and asked that they made an amber version of this exact copy.

It was their book, after all.

And now, here he was, sitting in the barren apartment of hers, on this cold winter dawn.

"Soon," he slowly voiced to himself, an enigmatic grin lightening his features. When he next eyed the clock, it was his cue to stand up, book in hand.

He left the apartment, sliding through the opening as the door closed with a soft click. Time stilled in the room right after his departure, and a ray of sun shone through that window.

It was warm like the echoes of her laugh.  
Laughs that always overwhelmed him whenever he stepped inside of this room.

—

The said man was strolling with a leisure pace through the town, stopping at every places that reminded him of her. Breaths coming out in smoky white puffs, lingering and never lasting, he marvelled at the meaning of life akin to how a man —satisfied of his lifetime— would.

At last, his worn-out feet led him to this quiet site, up the hill. The sun was washing over the pale blue sky, golden and rosy streaks filling the breadth of it with tender colors. Despite the heated rays, his cheeks were still rosy nonetheless, the cold weather serving its aspiration.

Wintry weather.

He breathed in, pausing a beat to gaze at the far-reaching infinity of the world.

Walking in a little farther, he entered into the property. Paths splintered in the same manner of a river rifting into plentiful of branches. He took the one his heart led him to.

Steps ahead, and he found her.

"It had been long years already, right, Love?"

His murmur might have been lost in the wind, but not within his heart.  
If he closed his eyes, he would've see her answer.

Those ambers.

Where she stayed.  
Where she rested.

 _Peacefully._

 _ **—** Usui Ayuzawa Misaki_ **—**  
 _May your words never fade._

He bent down at the feet of her grave, and laid down the fresh bouquet of hydrangea he held throughout the way. In all ritual, he stood as tall as his old spine would let him. Then, he opened the book to its first page.

Simply to read.

A gentle smile curled his lips. He loved the opening sentence. After all these years, he'd never tire of reading it —of seeing those tiny characters— black ink over ageing pages.

"Stripped down of all labels, she was just a simple girl." He voiced, low and raw. "He was all the same, a simple boy with a name that served him little."

Looking up the sky, the next sentence poured out of his lips by heart.

"And they met under a lonely tree, on a cold winter day."

 _The Sun might be long gone,  
But our story carries on._

—

 _Yesterday,  
Your voice was  
A faraway shout in the wind._

 _Today,  
Melting and unraveling  
is your smile._

 _Tomorrow,  
Memories won't fade  
Till the edge of forever._

—

* * *

 _ **—** The End **—**_

* * *

 _ **Author's note:**_

 _Such a heart-warming feeling to end one's story on such a earnest tone.  
_

 _Did you know? Hydrangeas'_ _ _—The flowers for Misaki's grave__ _ _ _—__ meaning is: True and Heartfelt Emotions.  
Somehow, I thought it would fit much more than Eternal Love and Grief (Red roses) or Purity and Innocence (Lilies). I don't know, the Misaki and Takumi isn't only about love in this story. It's more about the connection they share, right? The emotions that link them together. Something more universal than simply Love. _

_**For people who are confused by the story:**  
(I dread the reviews telling that they don't understand a thing, it makes me feel like I'm unable to convey what I want to you *hurts*)_

 _The Prologue and the Epilogue are depicting Takumi and Misaki in their Poet/Writer dynamics. The chapters One, Two and Three __—namely, Yesterday Today Tomorrow_ _— are narrating the story that Misaki has written, read from Takumi's point of view_ _ _—_ seeing that he changed the name of the characters to his and Misaki's. (He's so goofy, geez.) **  
**_

 ** _Thank you for everything: -_** _in no particular order -_ ** _  
_**

 _Rose Christoph_ _**Sandhya** Rui **leopio** Tsuray **RosellaGrover** Bailey webster **Rebekah** MystearicaBlaze **Jui2014** Rain **IamSimplyGIO** Padfoot Starfyre **SakKim98** EPICEST OF THE EPIC **Grace** Rin **Drearymoments** Ari **sugarandpepper** Truelove777 **Shelly** ReadeRxX **unmei96** Admirer chan **Black x Rabbit** G **Neo Eodieseo Watneunji**_

 ** _The numerous guests, and all my silent readers, fav'ers, and followers.  
_**

 _Your reviews are_ _ _—_ I quote from you_ _— **perfection**_ _and_ **_breathtakingly mindblowing_ _._ **_**To be frank, it really touches my heart.  
**_ _They carry a depth I haven't seen in all my others story, and I shall say, I am deeply honored for all the heart-warming support you have given me throughout the story!_

 _I adore you, my lovelies._

 _-J_


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